Winter in the Tower
by jazzybizzle
Summary: Steve and Natasha know that their best friends have a thing for each other. Oneshot!


**Because I need more Sharon and character bashing is overrated.**

* * *

"Morning!"

It's said with warm and welcome, something that Bucky Barnes still wasn't used to; he entered the penthouse to find his best friend and former mission, Steve Rogers. Bucky will never understand how Steve was so optimistic about everything.

But then again that's why he admired the little guy so much.

Heh...well he wasn't so little anymore.

Steve, always the early bird, was pouring himself some coffee. In response to his greeting, Bucky nodded and walked further into the room. His smile widened. "How do you like your coffee?"

Bucky shrugged. He hadn't had coffee in 70 years, give or take a decade or two.

So Steve gave him his. "Here. Taste it. See if you like it."

Bucky obliged, his expression unreadable. When his eyes met Steve's over the rim of his mug, Steve's smile widened further and Bucky kept drinking.

"Gonna have to get you your own mug, Bucks," Steve continued, opening the cabinet. "All of us have our own...see the black one here? That's Natasha's. Don't use it."

Bucky had to ask. "Why?"

Steve chuckled. "Just don't."

The two engaged in comfortable silence, Steve shuffling around the kitchen to fix more coffee, and Bucky taking a seat in one of the stools, resting his metal arm on the island. Steve got his coffee together, raising the red-white-and-blue mug up to his lips, and took a needed sip.

"Hm," he hummed. "Is the team treating you okay?"

Again, Bucky nodded, then treaded gradually, "Banner doesn't trust me but he's still respectful...Goldilocks is a bit...jolly...Barton likes to spy on me...Stark is just like his dad..."

Steve smiled faintly. "I thought that too."

"And, um...the one they call Reindeer Games?"

"Loki?"

"Yeah. Think I like him."

Steve choked on his coffee. "W-_what_?!"

"Aww, look at you two. Talking about man crushes?"

The two men looked up as Natasha sauntered in with a bowl of cereal. As if she had been there the whole time, she took a seat on the couch and continued to eat and slurp, her eyes expectantly on them.

But the two soldiers just stared.

"What? Don't mind me. Carry on," Natasha said, on the edge of teasing.

They still stared.

"Natasha..." Steve said slowly.

"Fine, fine," Natasha sighed, now appearing nonchalant. "I have more important things to do anyway."

Once the redhead was out of earshot, Bucky finally said, "..._Yeah_. Red scares me."

Steve grinned. "That's normal. What about the others?"

"Huh?"

"They all may not be always on the field with us, but I consider them part of the team anyway."

Bucky shrugged. "Morse, Foster, and Ross are alright. Potts is pleasant, but hesitant...Can't get Lewis to stop talking to me."

"And Sharon?"

"What about her?"

"She's around most of the time, so I thought..."

"I thought you and her, you know." Bucky grinned for the first time in their conversation, wagging his eyebrows. "_Fondue_."

Steve snorted. "Naaah...We had one date, and it was nice, but it felt more platonic than anything. She's really sweet. And a lot like Peggy too."

"I'm surprised that you're not all hung up over her."

"I'm surprised that it's not that way between you and Natasha."

Bucky blinked. "What?"

"Traces of your personality in you? I see in her," Steve explained himself further, slightly embarrassed at admitting this out loud. "You two are a lot alike. Sometimes I wonder if that's the reason I'm so protective over her. I mean...she's the one I l-"

Bucky arched an eyebrow.

"-really care about," Steve stumbled over his words, cheeks faintly pink.

"So, uh...Sharon, right?" Bucky decided to let his friend slide for now, knowing the opportunity to tease him will come later.

"Sharon," Steve echoed, now eyeing the Winter Soldier curiously, along with rising suspicion.

"Sharon," Bucky mimicked.

And that's all he had to say on the subject.

* * *

"Carter, got a minute?"

Sharon looked up and put up her book as the spy sauntered inside her room. "Well, since you've already invited yourself in." Her amused gaze settled on her friend as the spy climbed into her bed and sat across from her.

"Rogers and Barnes were talking about you."

Brown eyes were wider than usual. "What?"

"I heard them talking in the kitchen," Natasha revealed mischievously.

"Is it bad? What did they say?"

"Steve asked Barnes what he thought about the women of the Tower and your name came up."

"And?"

"He thought that you and Steve '_fondue_'."

"Oh God."

"Uh huh."

"It was one date!"

"I know."

"Barnes doesn't, apparently."

"Why do you care?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean."

Sharon narrowed her eyes, and Natasha's smirk grew. "Natasha-"

"You're attracted to him." It wasn't a question.

Sharon's cheeks lightly flushed, her nose wrinkling. "I've had about enough of you." Lips twitching in amusement, she got up from the bed and padded to the kitchen. Natasha lounged back, throwing one leg over the other.

"Denial is a river in Egypt."

"I'm not denying anything. I'm not into him."

"Your body language says otherwise," Natasha teased. "If you're not into him then you would've looked at me when you said it." Sharon's lips pursed, fingers tapping against the counter. "And by the way, you just put the milk in the cabinet."

Mouth forming a tiny 'o', Sharon slowly extracted the milk from the cabinet, awkwardly popping open the top so she could drink from the carton.

Natasha's grin was very smug.

"I can drink from the carton if want to," Sharon snapped in a small voice. "And...and I can put my milk wherever I want to put it."

"Mhm."

"What?"

"Don't worry. Your milkshake will bring Barnes to the yard eventually."

_"Oh my God."_

* * *

"Natasha?"

The spy didn't turn, stubbornly holding her chin up high. "I'm busy."

"At what? Your magazine is closed and your TV is off..." Steve chuckled wholeheartedly, approaching her from behind.

Natasha's lips pressed, crossing her arms. She nearly drops the act when his hands are on her shoulders, rubbing and squeezing her there gently. The soldier's touch always soothed her, her tense muscles unwinding. Her head tilted back in relaxation, brushing against his firm abdomen.

"Mm..." was her, what she felt was weak, response.

Steve smiled, bending over to drop a kiss to her forehead. "Still mad at me?"

"Hm. Maybe." Her lips quirked up at the corners. "Lips," she demanded.

Steve obliged.


End file.
